Lynn Klemmer is a multimedia artist.
She graduated at the National College of Art and Design in Dublin with a BA in Fine Art & Visual Culture (2017) and is an MA student in European Media Studies at the University of Potsdam.
Her art practice, involving various media, explores the boundary between the analog and the digital, humans and machines, as well as questions regarding the bond between images and meaning.
She is also a co-founder of Mnemozine, a Luxembourgish interdisciplinary research and
art collective which manifests itself as a platform for experiments in philosophy, sociology and contemporary art practice.
A short film, shot entirely on a VHS-C movie camera, exploring the themes of neuroplasticity, electricity, and the magnetic field between images and meaning. It attempts to connect with the viewer through plot-charged image fragments and silent subtitles. The work is shown in a filmet-like installation containing references to the film’s imagery. Built as a walled-off room within a room, it invites the viewer to step outside the gallery space and step into a ‘virtual’ domestic space, or to exit the skull and enter the brain.
The title refers to neuropsychologist Donald Hebb, known for his discovery that adjacent neurons weld together through repeated experiences and thoughts. Extreme stress or trauma can produce paranoia, anxiety, schizophrenia, or other mental disorders.
In an emergency, the brain looks for patterns and connections, a phenomenon called apophenia, to protect itself from potential danger. Digital algorithms exhibit similar behaviour. When patterns rule, contingency becomes obsolete. However, in this meaning-charged equilibrium, a certain rogue voltage remains, like an electric current about to short circuit.
The language of this tension is what this movie tries to express.
Mixed media sculptures, plinths, tv screen, LED tubes, web cameras, chains
An installation thematising the impossibility of making eye contact with one another in the context of a video call due to the vertical disparity between the positioning of a webcam and the user's eyes. Either The two users look at the screen and therefore their eyes do not meet, Or one of them plunges his gaze into the abyss of the lens so that the other can welcome it. But what if Both of them fixed their gaze on the lens? The installation makes visible Such an interaction. The spectator witnesses the fact that the gazes of two sculptures meet through the cameras. Eye contact, without a third observer, would remain blind and without testimony. A perspective on the disjointed mediation between traditional sculpture and Digital objects, humans and technology, Eyes and Mechanical eyes.
A fictional advertisement satirising the paradox of recent cookie laws. What was supposed to promise privacy has turned into the necessity to consent to data collection.
Using visual elements from old computer and technology commercials, which have prepared the grounds for today’s virtual consumer landscape and technological imagination, this video envisions what the cookie of today will mean for tomorrow. Given the fact that past technology ads, originally just the strategic marketing of a distant technological utopia, today ring true like ancient prophecies, will the Fortune Cookie have predicted our future?
The cloud has become a metaphor for the Internet, but its outlines are ill-defined. An image introduced by telecommunication companies to render complex technology simple and trans- parent has, perhaps, distorted the way we understand contemporary reality. This short film tells a three-part narrative that, through edited footage, personal experience and corporate speak, seeks to examine how clouds are not always what they seem. The lightness they suggest hides the concrete reality they deform. A call to daydream, to reimagine, to reconsider.
Photo : Andrés Lejona
Head in The Clouds (Script)
Big velvety cumulus clouds are covering the blue sky and are morphing into new forms. The classroom window puts them in a frame. It is afternoon. The teacher’s voice stops and the sudden silence brings me back inside. I have not been listening.
I can feel my teacher’s angry look so I hide my face behind my hair and stare into the textbook.
I always have my head in the clouds, he tells me.
Introducing the Cloud
We have a vision. A vision of an electronic com- munity where people can easily and inexpen- sively communicate.
You can think of our electronic meeting place as the cloud.
There is a cloud. It’s the network.
A network that will link people in more personal ways.
Together we and our customers will build this new electronic community.
A community without borders and without boundaries.
And our new meeting place is open.
I am about to get on my first plane. As we are taking off, the sky above us is covered by a blanket of clouds. The closer we get to them, the more their clear outline is blurred. What once resem- bled a dense cotton ball dissolves into a thick fog. All of a sudden we are surrounded by white. I cannot tell at what point we entered the cloud. Or if we entered it at all.
Welcome to the farm
Ok, here we are on the data center floor. The first thing that I notice is that it’s a little warm in here. It’s about 80 degrees Fahrenheit.
A data center is the brains of the internet.
The engine of the Internet.
It is a giant building with a lot of power, a lot of cooling and a lot of computers.
It’s row, upon row, upon row of machines all working together to provide the services that make it function.
This data center is one node in a larger network of data centers all over the world.
It won’t be raining today. There is not a single cloud in the sky.
The heat has done great damage to the fields, leaving the farmers with a poor harvest. Some nuclear power plants had to be turned off, because they were overheating the nearby rivers. Everyone raised their head to the clouds, impatiently waiting for rain.